Mia the Meek (23 page)

I stared intently into Tim’s eyes and rested my hand on his arm. “Please leave us alone. I’ll meet you back at my house in a little while.”

Tim shrugged my hand off and grudgingly walked away. I pulled Jake over to my old swing set in the backyard.

“Are you all right? You’re bleeding,” I said gently, sitting down on a swing.

“That punk couldn’t hurt me. But I need to know: Were you really creepin’ on me, dude, or did Tim make you kiss him?” Jake grabbed my swing, forcing me to look him in the eye. I sighed.

“Jake, I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan to kiss Tim—it just happened.”

“But I thought we had somethin’ goin’ on,” Jake said, wiping the blood off his face. “I really like you, dude. So, I guess if this is the only time it happened, we can still keep chillin’ together.”

“Well,” I stammered.

“You’ve been creepin’ on me before today?”

“Only once,” I said quickly.

“But I thought you were all hot to be my breezy,” Jake stammered. “It was all going so good. And I was like. . . totally understanding when you dissed me to study for that jankity Test Bowl.”

“Quiz Bowl.”

“Whatever.”

“Jake, you and I have nothing in common.” I sighed again. “I think it would be better if we didn’t go out any more.”

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“No, it’s not that—”

“‘Cuz I’m not. And I was lying when I said you were bootylicious. You’re just some raggedy chick who’d be nothing without me. Let’s get serious. Do you really think you’d be class president if you weren’t dating me? I took you from being totally whack and made you Miss Thing. And you’re telling me you’re baggin’ me? That’s a total laugh because
I’m
droppin’
you
!”

“Jake, please, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“That’s a joke,” Jake spat. “A jankity chick like you, hurting my feelings? I was only using you to pass your betty’s class. The fact you were so easy was just a bonus. In fact, I’ve never dated a girl who was so quick to jump my bones as you. As soon as I used you up, I was going to drop you anyway because you’ll never be worthy of a slammin’ guy like me.”

“Is that so?” I exploded. “Well, let me tell you something, you ghetto-talking wannabe. I am not a ‘chick,’ ‘chassy,’ ‘breezy,’ or a ‘dude.’ St. Hilary’s is not in the hood, and you live in a million dollar home. Face it, Jake, you’re a poser! And for your information, I won the election on my own with help from my
real friends. The only
thing you were right about is that I’m so much smarter than you, it’s pathetic. You even make me believe in reincarnation, because nobody could be as stupid as you in one lifetime. And by the way, when you go crawling back to Cassie, you’d better work on your kissing skills, because kissing you is like making out with a toad!”

I jumped off my swing and left Jake speechless in the backyard. I marched back into my kitchen and found my mom placing slices of cake onto plates.

“I thought I heard Jake out there. Why don’t you invite him in for some cake and ice cream?”

“I don’t think Jake will be coming around here any more,” I said.

“Is that so?” my mom asked, raising an eyebrow. “By the way, what happened to Tim and the ice cream scoop?”

“Here it is!” Tim yelled, running through the back door.

“Oh, my goodness!” said my mom, rushing over to examine Tim’s cut lip and the beginning of a black eye. “Are you all right? Mia didn’t do this to you, did she?”

“Mom!” I said.

“I’m fine,” Tim said. “I just had a little trouble finding the ice cream scoop.”

“Gosh, I’d hate to see you if we’d sent you over for the cake knife,” my mom commented, deciding Tim’s injuries weren’t fatal. “Why don’t you two come out to the living room for some cake and ice cream?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Fullerton, but may I talk to Mia alone first?”

“Sure, but if you come back with a broken arm, I’m contacting the authorities.”

I followed Tim out to the backyard and didn’t see any sign of Jake. He must have started on his long walk home. I couldn’t help but be a little pleased—it was so chilly outside, yet Jake thought he was too cool to wear a jacket.

Tim picked up the basketball and threw it to me. “Want to play a little one-on-one?” he said.

“Haven’t you been beaten up enough today?” I smiled, dribbling the ball.

Tim took the ball from my hand and shot a free throw. “So, what did you say to Jake?”

“Let’s just say that Jake and I are over,” I said, rebounding the ball.

“So, where does that leave us?” Tim asked, stealing the ball from me and shooting a lay-up.

“What do
you
think?” I said, grabbing the ball.

Tim stopped and, leaning over, quickly kissed me as he stole the ball from my hands.

“I think you’re going to get trounced in this basketball game,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Bring it on, tough guy,” I said with a grin.

Tim threw an air ball. “So, have you read the new Todd Lacey book?”

“Of course I did,” I said, rebounding the ball. “It’s a great commentary on how women are the backbone of society.”

Tim blocked my shot. “No way. It’s about how men have had to carry women along through the ages.”

“You’ve got to be kidding! You totally missed the point of the book.”

“I think you’d better reread it,” Tim said, dropping the ball. “If you want, I can underline all the important points.”

I scrambled after the ball and made a three-pointer. “There are only several people in this world I find obnoxious, and you are all of them.”

Tim rebounded the ball. “Then why do you like me so much?”

“Because I know I can beat you in basketball,” I said, stealing the ball and making a shot over his head. “Why do you like me?”

“Because I can do this,” Tim said as he grabbed me from behind, twirled me around, and began to kiss me.

That night, as my roller coaster plunged downward into darkness, I held my hands up and screamed excitedly, taking pleasure in the ride. Surprisingly, my car never reached the ground. Instead, as it continued up another hill, I held on and smiled, wondering where the ride would take me next.

A special thank you to my husband Todd and my children Erin and Nolan for being incredibly supportive of me and my writing career.

Thank you to my extended family and friends for everything you do for me. I’d especially like to thank my parents Pat and Bonnie Burke for their continued belief that I can do anything I set my mind to; my siblings Joe Burke, Maureen Stager, and Michelle Juarez for their humor; Elaine Koonce for her friendship; my book club colleagues for their encouragement; Mike Abrams and Kathy Anderson for their edits; and my writing group, Jan Blazanin and Sharelle Byars Moranville, for everything.

Thank you to the Iowa Chapter of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. I am blessed to be among such amazing talent. I would also like to thank the incredible writers I read while growing up, especially Paula Danziger.

This book would not exist without the inspiration of all my former students. Thank you for supplying me enough material to last a lifetime.

Most of all, I’d like to thank Ronda Lindsay for pulling
Mia the Meek
out of the slush pile at Bancroft Press, and publisher Bruce Bortz, who agreed Mia was a character richly deserving long literary life.

Growing up in a household filled with my older brother and sister, a teen-age aunt, and a younger brother with special needs, I soon discovered that if I wanted any of my parents’ attention, I’d have to be creative to get it. So, I told funny stories to make them laugh.

My love of story-telling grew as I entered the wonderful world of reading, and I spent much of my childhood curled up with a good book in front of a heat register in my family’s living room in Davenport, Iowa. Sometimes, I’d become so engrossed in a book, I wouldn’t even notice the heat vent burning my arm! But until the seventh grade, I hadn’t connected the joy of reading with the joy of writing stories. That’s when my English teacher, Mrs. Hermie, signed me up to attend a writer’s workshop for talented writers. Just by having someone tell me I could write led to a burst of creativity during my junior high years.

My love of writing continued, and when I became a middle school language arts teacher, I often found myself writing side-by-side with my students. One day, after listening to my students grumble when I assigned them the task of writing a realistic book of fiction, I told them I would share their pain and attempt to write one, too.

And that is when Mia Fullerton was born. Even after my students’ books were graded and returned to them, I couldn’t stop writing about Mia and her friends. I combined many of my own embarrassing moments—yes, I actually set my lab table on fire during my freshman year at Assumption Catholic high school—with my students’ anecdotes to create the fictional world of St. Hilary’s, and I haven’t stopped writing since.

Unfortunately, a person needs more than a passion for writing in order to get published. So, I sadly said good-bye to my classroom and focused on learning the craft of writing instead. After many years, many revisions, and many rejection letters, Mia finally found a home at Bancroft Press, and I have been given the gift of being able to revisit Mia and her friends as I begin writing this book’s sequel,
Mia the Melodramatic.

I currently live in Urbandale, Iowa with my husband, Todd, two children (Erin and Nolan), and my very ornery dog, Casey.

Born and educated in Iowa, Eileen Boggess earned both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in education from the University of Northern Iowa in Cedar Falls, IA. As an undergraduate, she minored in English and Language Arts.

Her first job after college was as a teacher for St. John/St. Nicholas Catholic School in Waterloo, Iowa, where she taught a combined class of fifth and sixth graders. She later moved to Urbandale, IA, where she taught middle school language arts and gifted education for St. Pius X School. While there, she coached Mock Trial, Future Problem Solvers, Destination Imagination, and speech and debate, and started a quarterly newspaper written and designed by students.

In 2002, she branched out as a freelance writer, covering, among other things, education and business for the
Press Citizen
newspaper. In 2003, she won a writing contest sponsored by
Writer’s Digest Magazine.

She is an adjunct faculty member for Upper Iowa University and currently teaches a children’s literature course. She also supervises student teachers for the university.

She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators and an enthusiastic participant in the Iowa chapter’s activities.

Mia the Meek
is her first published book.